


Hola Zincahope

by Prince_Zukos_Honor



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Spelling & Grammar, Gen, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Some Plot, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 19:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17607293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Zukos_Honor/pseuds/Prince_Zukos_Honor
Summary: ~this story was originally written by 'Grandpa Micky, I only transcriped it online~What happens when an old man looks back onhis time in the west? Well it involes some horses, a mule, a "fa'r", a weird wolf, commas instead of periods, and mild racism.Yay.





	Hola Zincahope

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so a fa'r is a fire, and this story is confusing yet oddly appealing (to me). And um good luck xD

"Hola Zincahopi"

They is a warn sun a 'shinin in Colorado. I'm a settin in my ol' rocker on the back porch, have a pretty robin afflittin in and outa the yard for company. He's a busy boy, achirpin and yappin. Tells me he don't have too much time to spend agossipin with the likes of me, gotta get busy fixin a nest for a family to come.

It's been a mighty pleasant day. The air is balmy with spring afetchin on overhead. The sky is blue and only a mite of cloud a'driftin like a lost white buffalo over the plain of the sky. They is a strange restlessness within me. The spirit in me is a 'dancin with me memories, memories of many many yesterdays. How many? A thousand, ten thousand, twenty thousand yesterdays, who can remember so far back? And yet, as I look to the west, I see the rollin hills blend into the mountains, the green of the pines and aspen, mixed with a blotch of white snow and red granite among the peaks. A scattering of wild flowers to follow soon.

I lay my head back and close my eyes. There's nothing to see, my thoughts go swirling about like autumn leaves in a whisper of wind, and I feel a change in the whispers, like wee lil voices a'talkin to me, sayin, let's go back - way back, far back - to the years when I was a youngun, back to the time when I crossed the state lines a'lookin to the west or south, out thru the wild lands, wherever the trails led. On to Kansas, Missouri Ozarks, the high country of New Mexico and Arizona, follow the plains and bends of Texas, into ol Mexico.

Them wee lil voices and whisperins were insistent. I knew them well. My secret lil friends. The lil green elves. Many's the time I'd see them when I'd be alone, acomin in on a ray of sunbeam, a laughin and singin and dancin around. We'd talk and talk, and they'd tell me all manner of things they knowed from livin in the forest around us. Mebbe you done seed them yourself!

If not, next time, when you is campin out or even in your back yard, when the sun is filtering thru the leaves, look around. You might see them a'singin and dancin for you. You'll love em and they'll love you too.

If it were not true, I would not tell you so.

What did I have in those early years? Nothin. Nothin but a dirty smelly town full of noise, narrow streets and alleys, crowded with all kinds of people who could not understand each other. Very little sun, no sky to look up to. Times again I would go out to the edge of town where the grass was green and I could see the sky and the stars at night. I loved those nites. Then one day, I went way out from the edge of town, and I came to a railroad track. Now, I'd heard of a railroad before, but I'd never come up on one. Wasn't much to see, just two rails of steel runnin of into the distance bedded down on cross ties.

That strange feelin was a stirrin in my blood as I stood at those tracks alookin down those rails, miles and miles of wavin grass. I could see me goin on and on followin that trail of steel, different people, places I'd never known. I had to see them, feel them. The dreams I had were out thar somewhere.

~~~

Where I was, I had nothin. God had taken our Mom, the only sis I had was married, nothin for me. Them lil whisperins was saying "Go, go, don't look back." So come along with me Country Bumpkin, let's meander along those trails of long ago. I've a tale or two to tell.

Bein a non-payin passenger on various railroads - The Santa Fe, Burlington, Union Pacific, dozens of others. I soon learned the hundred or so little things one must know to sustain oneself in the pursuit of Life, Liberty, and Happiness, in every changing environment. After all, I had the best cross country travellers teaching me. 

Seemed like months on end goin thru Kansas and parts of ol Mizzou. No matter which way you looked, grass for miles and miles, tall as a man's middle. Just awavin on and on. At night the stars came out, looked to be a million of em. You'd never seen the like. Sleepin was no problem, no matter whar I was at, sometimes under a small bridge over a small creek, mebby I'd clear an area around some brush, make a small fire and fix me a sage hen, rabbit or squirrel I'd knock over with a rock. Twarn't many I'd miss.

Mostly, tho, some farmer would come on me and I'd stay for two or three days ahelpin him out, mebby get a dollar or two, fill my tummy and take off again.

Months go by. Me, I'm a still awanderin. Mostly west and gettin shet of the prairie. Them mountains is agettin mighty close, mostly brush, rocks, boulders, some bigger than some houses I'd come across.

Me, I was afrettin about gettin some kinda grub in me, I done pulled my belt to the last notch. I was that hungry. Gettin nigh to nightfall, time to find a sheltered hole among them rocks. Looking around me all I could see was miles and miles of rocky country, a dark blue haze off to the west, with mebbe some rain off to the north. I thought I seed a flicker of light off to my left, so I climbed up some boulders to see better. Sure nuff, somebody had a far down yonder. How fur I could not tell. My guts kept tellin me to get down thar.Mebbe they got some grub to spare.

Wasn't more than three to four miles when I come to their camp, expectin no warm welcome. Usually folks in this country was good folks, tho at times I'd come across some onery ones that I steered shy of. I wasn't more than fifty feet from their fa'r, the smell of grub turnin my insides over. So I stepped out into the open and stood there. It bein pitch dark, the fa'r lit me up so they knowed I was thar.

A short squat man with a square face and a mustache called out to me. "You there, what do you want?" So I spoke up, "A job, if one's to be had, and a meal if you've grub to spare. My name is Mick, and I'm headin westward from Illinois, towards the Rockies. But if there's a job, I'll walk straight to it."

He looked me over mighty sharp and then said, "Get over to the fa'r. I ain't ever turned down a man yet. I'm Buckley."

When I walked up to the fa'r, there was a big handsome man lyin on the ground, by the fa'r, a man with a golden beard like one of those Vikings. "Hell," he said, "it's a farmer."

"So what's wrong with farming? You wouldn't have a belly full of beans, effen it wasn't farmed by somebody."

Then, Mr.Belden said, "We've had trouble with em. They beat up one of our men the other day."

"So," said a strange voice alongside, "So mebbe we should bash his head in."

"Mister," I said, "anytime you think you can bash this farmer's haid, you just have at it." And I picked me up what looked like a hickory club by the fa'r and I waited. 

Then a raspy voice like a saw cuttin thru a knot said, "Let him alone. He's a guest at our fa'r."

The cook brought me a plate of grub and it smelled so good, I didn't even look up until I empties that plate and another and swallered three cups of coffee, hot as fa'r and black as night.

The man with the golden beard watched me and said. "Mr.Buckley, you better hire this kid. If he can work like he can eat, you got yourself a hand." Upshot of it was, if I was a hoss wrangler, takin care of a remuda of hosses, seems like they've had one, but he got hisself stomped on the other day and had to be took to a doctor forty miles away.

So Buckley hollered, "Cap, you take this youngun and show him what's what." Now that raspy voice I heered belonged to Cap, a short wrinkled ol bow-legged runt, looked to be a 100 years old, almost black from the sun, one good eye handle bars that hung down past his chin, stained with chaw tobacco he had in his left cheek that stuck out like a good sized tater in his mouth. that wuz Cap, and did he he let out a snort an bellered, "Wot am I, a nursemaid to this misbegotten scarecrow, some scrawny cat dragged in and dumped at her fa'r. Now ahm agettin old and feeble, all my life I've had nothin but tender fetchin up. Now this hain't got time to be carryin a bottle of milk and feedin this brat every time it starts cryin."

On and on he grumped and snorted, showing me the twenty or so hosses in the rope corral where the feed was, the water, gather wood or chips for cookin fa'r, never touch anybody's gun or blankets, no matter where they lay.

Now, Tim, the sugeundo or foreman, the one with the golden beard, caught my eye and winked at me. Right thar I kinda parked up at that ol mossy-horn Cap. The more he grumped, the more I was likin him. That ol coot hit me just right.

Twas when he caught me with a smile on my face that he stopped, grabbed a coupla blankets from the supply wagon, throwed them under cookie's wagin and snarled, meanlike to scare, "That be your bed, be at the corral afor dawn or I'll tan your hide proper."

~~~

Just before dawn I wuz the first one up, had a good fa'r stirred up, two buckets of fresh spring water from the creek nearby, waved at the night guard, who rode by. Cookie rolled out, saw the water and fa'r and smiled. The others came in ones and twos. Cap, well he just grumped which was his way of sayin hi. Hot belly pads and biscuits with gravy and jam was breakfast. Then, ride out, boys.

This was my advent into the land of the west. We wuz camped on Llana Creek at the sunrise slope of the Rampart Mountain. It overlooked the plains to the east, the tumbled hills aimin for the Pecos to the south, the unbelievable green of new grass, the windswept blue of the New Mexico sky, the grey mesquite creamy blocks of yucca in all their glory, all impatient for the coming summer change.

They wuz a dozen or so bands of wild horses scattered round them plains and hills - and that's what we was after. They were seven riders not countin Time and Mr.Buckley who left that mornin on business to Santa Fe. Them riders now would ride out in the early dawn, mebbe spot a dozen head of wild ones, keep track of em till the other boys came to help drive em into a holding corral, usually a blind canyon about a mile or two from camp. 

Each rider had two or three hosses that was his personal own. When the one he was ridin was givin out, he'd ride in, and it's my chore to have his other mount ready to go. Most times some would come in for a bite to eat and I'd unsaddle one and saddle up the fresh hoss, cept they done their own cinch gatherin. Most of my time was in the camp corral with twenty or so horses, to look after, feed em, water em, rub em down and clean em up.

I caught Cap awatchin me for a week or so but nary a word did he say. Twas about then that I learned sumpin I didn't know before. There was a real close affinity between them spooky and skittish hosses and me. Them onery critters was beginnin to like me. I'd walk into the corral and all they'd do was lift their heads and flick their ears, scratchin em around them ears, croonin a soft song or lullaby they liked to hear.

It was kinda odd cause when anyone else came close to the corral, they'd scatter to the far end. Now me, both my arms and my backside was covered with tooth marks from their love nips when I turned my back on some of em.

Funny thing, tho, when a rider wanted his hoss, I'd walk into the corral and dab my rope on him, lead him out, saddle up, no trouble, till the rider cinched him tight and when he got set in the saddle, all hell broke loose till he run hisself out. Mebbe that hoss like me better than him.

Now in that corral was one contradiction. Among all them riders hosses was a shaggy china eyed pack mule, ageful and mountain wise, just like Cap, who owned him. Oft times Cap would come and call him and share some goodies he'd borrow or what else from cookie. Cap done found him stashed in brush where his momma left him to lead the cats away from him and they got him leavin her baby an orphan. Cap raised him and kep him all these years.

I shyed away from that four legged mustache and he stayed away from me. That gray muzzled mouse colored flop eared old mule follered every move I made with them odd colored eyes and I never did get close to him. Day by day I talked to him, tell him stories, sing songs I'd learn from the boys till three months went by and then one day I was feedin them hosses some sugar and goodies. I looked at Muley, that was his name, I dunno why. I wuz walkin up to him kinda slow like. this time he just stood still, not even his eyes or ears moved. I stopped a coupla feet from him and held out my hand with the goodies. For a minute he didn't move. Then stuck his muzzle out and sniffed at what I was sharin with him, rolled out his tongue and flopped them goodies in his mouth. We was buddies, he'd foller me around from time to time. I allus had sumpin for him. From then one I could clean and comb ole Muley till he looked more respectable.

Cap knowed what I was up to but he never said nuthin, but I could see he was pleased. 

Then one mornin, Tim said to break camp, we wuz movin on. What wild stock we had was tamed down some and branded and ready to drive to a rail head some thirty miles thru the mountains.

Cap and me cleaned up camp, helped cookie stash his cooking gear in the waggin, then Cap went to the remuda, totin a wore out saddle, throwed it on Muley, lead him out to me and said, "You ride point behind cookie. Chaco and I will ride the remuda behind you. I know them hosses will foller you."

Chaco, now, he was the smilinest rider I ever did see, no matter what he got hisself into or what he did, he allus had a smile and how that Mex could sing. Every nite at the camp fire he'd plunk his gittar and we'd hear of lonesome cowboys. Their broken hearts and sweethearts they left behind. Some were gay, some sad cause of a stampede brought on by a storm at nite.

Well, youngun, Cap and Chaco had the hosses bunched up waitin on me to head out after cookie. I looked at Muley, and he just batted his one flop ear, laid back the other, rolled them china blue eyes, pulled his lips back sos I could see his worn yeller teeth. It war a mean look and he meant it to be. Then a big snort of dismissal for all this mumbo jumbo business of me ridin him. He turned his back on me.

So this was a showdown atween me and him. We first had to have an understandin atween us. I grabbed the reins and told him right flat out, "We is goin thru Injun what eat mule meat. You jest start actin sassy with me. I don't want any of yer shenanigans whilst i is settin that saddle. Now, you make up your mind, what little you got of it."

That ol' mule first grunted and sighed unhappily. I stepped up into the saddle. That danged Muley just stood there, turned his head - one eye on me, the other on the hickory club I held in my hand. He took off with a bone jarrin gait and when he seed I wuz ignorin him, he settled down to a smooth slow trot.

That herd of mine follered easy like when I started croonin and singin songs to em. Muley had a look of disgust everytime he turned to look at me. Why must an honest hard workin, blue eyed pack mule be made to hear this spiritual insult of injury of being forced to listen to this simple minded young idiot on his back. It shore was a sorry day when he met up with me.

Ten or twelve miles farther, we made camp at Coyote Crick, strung the corral ropes, and was gettin ready for some of the boys to come in from the main herd about a mile away. They was boxed in a canyon, both ends blocked with brush and a small crick for water. Camp was easy goin with a nice fa'r, Tim tellin tales of other places they been, Chaco a'playin and singin. Time to hit the sack. Gotta be up at dawn.

The air was quiet and still. Cap come up and said, "Sleep with one eye open this nite when I turned in." Didn't savvy what he meant till long about midnight I heered a deep rumble and saw some lightnin flashes over yonder mountains. I tore out from under the waggin, grabbed a slicker and hat from the box, and ran for my remuda. 

They wuz tryin to bust outa the corral. The were that scairt of the thunder and lightnin which wuz comin closer and closer, but with me in there with em, apettin and talkin to em, they kind a settled down a mite.

Then the storm hit us. What a deluge. The like I've never seed before. Torrents of rain came down, no end to crashes of thunder and lightnin shinin up half the sky till it wuz bright as day - me in that corral tryin to quiet them spooked up hosses.

What with all that yappin, squallin, them hosses mixed with Muley's brain, my yellin and singin to em at the top of my voice, the heavens eased up a little, but it rained and rained all that night. Without me in that corral all my hosses would've bolted, no tellin how fur they would run, crazy scairt like they wuz.

Just afore dawn, the rain eased up but I didn't know it. They found me then, propped up agin a post, fast asleep, all my hosses and Muley packed up close around me to keep me warm. Cap and Chaco found me first. Chaco picked me up, still asleep, and took off all my wet clothes, wrapped me in dry blankets and put me in Cookie's waggin, where I waked up when the sun was up.

We wuz lucky nobody got hurt. The riders kep the main herd from stampedin all over the country. That evenin, Tim rode into camp, said he heered what I had done an said it was right fine. We wuz camped on the Mora side of the creek, it bein bank full. We'd never bin able to cross if we was on the other side.

No matter, they wuz chores to do, the herd was movin out. we follered them. Two days later we wuz outside of Mora, the herd penned up in the stock pens at the station, waitin for the train.

~~~

Tim wuz at Cookie's waggin, pencil and his tally book, figgerin how much wages was due to each man.

I had about 4-1/2 months comin, at $15 a month, and he gimme $75 and thanked me for savin his remuda. First time in my life I had that much money.

Now if I could go to town, I'd get me some clean new clothes, cause I still looked like a farmer, patched up wore out shirt, jeans stuffed into clumsy boots. I sure looked like nothin at all.

Most of the boys done gone already, cept Cookie, who was makin out his list of grub he'd need. Also his team needed shoin pretty bad. I asked Cookie if I could go to town, and he said, "Sure, come back in three days."

Then Cap and Chaco rode up and Cap said, "Saddle up Muley, let's ride to town."

Twarent more than three mile, and what a town. A general store, blacksmith shop, two or three saloons, a half dozen dobie shacks, that wa'r the metropolis of Mora in them days.

First stop was the saloon, of course. Cap and Chaco had their whiskey, and me, sasparilla. How that bartender ever got it, I never did know. Then I walked around town, which wasn't much, practically all Spanish with a few Americana. A few dogs a layin out in the streets, warmin in the sun. But oh, them dark eyed senoritas. Buen dia, buen dias americano, and the smiles - boy oh boy.

But first things first. I went to the general store to get me a new outfit, shirts, jeans, slicker, boots, sox, red underwear with a seat that flopped down. Also a hat, which I wore even in my sleep. Even so, I had a few dollars left.

Next thing was to get a bath. Mostly in every town behind each saloon was three or four empty barrels, you packed your water from the crick, filled the barrel little over half full, took your clothes off and scrubbed and soaped yerself till you looked human. After a shave you smelled to high heaven from the cologne you doused on you. One look at some barrels behind the saloons and I had enough. Dirty and slimy, nobody even emptied any of em. Then I remembered across from the blacksmith shop was a roofed over shack with five or six big wooden tubs in it.

That must be where they take their bath. Nobody was around when I walked in, so I gets enough water from the crick, takes my clothes off, lays out my duds and starts soapin and washin. Right then and there when I wuz all covered with soap, I looked up and there in the doorway was four Mexican gals, arms and baskets full of washin, astarin at me. Then the laughin and giggles started.

Then I realized this was no bathhouse but a place to wash clothes. Those Spanish gals had taken one look and then they begun to shriek, and I figured they was scairt, but they weren't runnin, they was just standin there and laughin. Grabbin a bucket of water, I doused myself with it, grabbed a towel and my duds at a dead run and beat it for the woods. And I never crawled into my clothes so fast in all my born days. It must have been a sight, me all soapy in that tub, read around the gills. The last thing I could hear was them girls a laughin and laughin. Anyway, I had my bath.

Back in town I met Cap and Chaco and we figgered to go and eat at the La Fonda Hotel. First off, as we got in close, a girl spotted me, she pointed her finger at me, gasped and spoke excitin like to the girl with her, and then they started laughin. We passed a dozen girls and they all laughed and smiled at me.

At the La Fonda, we ordered our meal. The girl who took our order seen who I was and she started to giggle. Then two or three girls came out of the kitchen to look at me, agigglin and laughin. Chaco looked at me and asked how come I know so many girls. I told him, I'd never seen them before in my life. All I could do was stand my ground and wear it out or high tail it for the brush.

I spect it was all over town before we finished our meal. I wuz of no mind to stay in that town and wuz glad when we got back to camp. I never did tell anyone how come them gals was so interested in me.

~~~

Next mornin, after our breakfast, we just layed around yarnin about all manner of tales. I could see Cap confabin with Tim. I knowed I was part of what they had in mind by the way they would look at me now and then.

Come to find out, Mr.Buckley had twenty mares he hadn't sold. They was promised to a friend of his in Wyomin Country to use as breedin stock, Cap to ramrod the drive with Chaco to side him, only Cap insisted on me goin along to keep them mares from boltin every time some stallion along the trail took a notion to increase his harem.

From the way I handled the remuda the remuda he wuz darn sure them mares would never leave me. Besides, it would be another coupla months or so afore them mare would be gettin itchy about moonin around with some strange boy hosses. Rechon they done got it settled, cause Cap come up and said, "Get your bedroll, spread it in the corral with them mares, live there with em day and nite. We drive three days later."

Well, them mares was still half wild and skittish, more so than them remunda ponies, but when they gotten used to seein me and my smell, sniffin my bedroll when I wasn't in it, they didn't pay too much notion to my messin around.

One old mare in particular, I took a notion to, pears like she was a gramma to the bunch. So I made special friend of her, thinkin keepin her close to me, the rest would foller her around. Cap and Chaco done got the packhoss loaded and we headed out, me and ol Muley out front with the ol mare, the rest behind me. Cap talked mighty little, but what he did say allus made sense. He wuz a mighty hard old man, rode as many hours as any of us, tho he wuz a lot older. I never did know how old he wuz, but those hard old gray eyes of his had looked on a sight of strange things.

Cap knew the country where we headin to, knew every creek and ford, where to find water, where the passes were in the high country. There were no maps except what a man had in his skull, so a body remembered what he saw. Always and always we were watchin the sky, and lookin for dust clouds, for we was gettin close to Injun Country.

It was a place where Utes, Kiowas, Arapahoes raided and fought and mebby still did when nobody was watchin. Now and then we'd come upon burned waggin half buried in the sand or ground, readin sign you could still make out that the story of what happened some time back.

The mornin was gettin chilly, the air was fresher, a sign that we were gettn higher, more and thicker timber, but Cap was badger tough and coon wise. He knowed the off-beat trails whar no one was apt to travel.

At night we'd close-herd the ponies in a small hollow, well covered with brush and timber, take turns at night guard. First night out was the first time I had a gun in my hand, a 30-30 rifle and I wuz scairt I'd have to shoot somebody.

meanwhile I wuz listenin to Cap, that ol man had learned a lot in his lifetime, livin with the Injuns like he did, with the Sioux in Montana to the Apaches in Arizona and Mexico. He taught me a lot about how they lived, what their sign talk meant and how to talk back, that is if the Injuns was peacable, which mostly they wasn't.

An Injun respected a brave man and had no regard for one who showed fear. He'd just take his hair and give it to the squaws.

Our trail took us thru the San Juan Range north into the sands and rocky foundations of Utah, some of the wildest and highest country I've never knew could be. This wuz rugged country. It looked like it had been crumpled like a sheet of paper, with tilted layers whose saw-tooth edges had been weared down some by wind and rain. It would take months and months to learn all the canyons and hollows risin higher and higher into green forests and finally to timberline and the gray and lonely peaks up yonder in the sky.

Now and then I'd see deer, dozen or so in a bunch, several elk around patches of grass. We stayed mostly to lonely trails, long time not used by the Injuns who made them. you could kinda feel their ghosts were still walkin along these mountain sides.

Once in a while we saw a bear track or couger. Twaren't more than a month after we left camp that Cap talkin a notion to swing west thru San Rafael Swell with its Robbers roost, then cut across back east into Brown's Hole in Wyomin.

I could tell the trails we been on been scouted by Injuns and mountain men. They was obvious and hidden and ranches and homesteaders were friendly to drifin men, askin no questions and givin no information to strangers. A driftin man might ride from Mehico to the Canadian border, and be sure of meals or shelter, or a change of hosses if he was in a hurry. Not all who ride the outlaw trail wuz wanted men, mebbe they had friends amon the wild bunch.

I had me a notion tha this was that kind of country, cause two or three times Cap had us make camp sayin he was gonna scout the trail ahead, then he'd be back in three hours or so with his saddle bags filled with possibilities we wuz short of.

Now me, I never asked any questions and Chaco, he just smiled. Crossin into Wyomin, Cap made camp, called a council and told us to be extra alert for most any kind of trouble, especially no shootin if it could be avoided. He'd been hearin talk of some strangers roamin around who wasn't particular whose stuff they lifted, not leavin any witnesses. Those hosses we had would sure be a welcome prize.

Cap figgered we had no more than forty more mile to go when we made camp in a grassy hollow next to a bluff and clear sparklin water runnin past its base. We wuz takin turns cookin, it bein Cap's this time. Chaco took off to scout the trail ahead. Me, I had to go out and bring in some fresh deer meat.

So I slung the bow and arrows. Cap made up some time back, not wantin a shot to bring anybody around. Waren't more than a mile or so out I spotted some deer in the timber and brush, but usin a bow means closer shootin than with a rifle, which wuz in my boot on Muley. Feedin deer are easy to stalk if a man is careful on his feet and doesn't let them get wind of him. When a deer puts his head down to graze, you can move up on em and you can keep movin very quiet. When their tail start to switch, they're gonna look up, so you freeze in position. He may be lookin right at you when he looks up, and he might for a long time, but if you stand right still, after a while he will decide if you're a harmless tree or stump and go on feedin.

I worked my way up mebbe thirty yards of big fat buck, drew my bow back, let the arrer fly and hit him behind the left foreleg. Workin fast, I butchered that deer, loaded the choice cuts into the hide and mounted Muley. A man should trust his senses when in old country. I never took it for granted the country wuz safe. Not only watchin as I moved, but testin the air for smells.

Out in the mountains where the air is fresh a man can smell more than around people, and after a while he learns to smell an Injun, a white man, a horse or even a bear. We wuz gettin close to camp when I felt a slight hitch in Muley's walk, that flop ear was pickin some strange sounds I hadn't heered yet, him sniffin with his muzzle shut.

Now it's little things like that that Cap teached me to notice. You either keep on livin, or you got scalped or otherwise. I sho, shoe'd Muley, slid off, pulled my rifle outen the boot and slipped thru the brush to the top of the bluff above the camp sos I could look down.

Sure nuff, Cap had company, the unwelcome kind, his rifle leanin agin a tree ten feet away, no chance whatever. A big man unshaved and dirty head to boots, set his horse a few yards from him, hands close to his guns, a wolf like grin on his ugly face. Two more on each side of him a little to the back, holdin rifles pointin right at Cap. I knowed they wuz'nt gonna be social like, so I laid my gun on a handy rock, spoke my piece, short and sudden like. 

"Freeze, first man moves I put a bullet in the big man's gizzard." Their eyes popped and I could see em stiffen with shock from my voice. "Drop them guns, easy like." I said, which they did.

And the big man said, "Shucks, we wuz only funnin, wasn't meanin any harm," 

But Cap was madder than hell, lettin them outlaws sneak up on him thataway. He just got his rifle, walked up the the big one. "You wuz aimin to steal our herd, then kill me. Now I don't take kindly to that." Then rammed his rifle into the big man's gut, knockin him plumb offin his hoss. He hit the ground all doubled up, and Cap walked to him and whopped the gun barrel across his haid and layed him out flat.

Chaco stepped out from the trees, his rifle on them other two bad men, and tole em to get down. One of em said to Cap, they wuz no call to hit that big man like he did, but Cap was still mad and whopped him same as the othern, took their rifles, levered em empty and one at a time busted em on the rocks, then throwed them in the brush. Cap called me to come down offen the bluff. I said I'd go get Muley and be right back.

I came to camp and Cap was shuckin shells outen the big man's six shooter, him wearin two of em stuck one in his holster and his the othern, then told them bad men to mount up, reached behind his neck, slipped out a wicked lookin knife, walked to each of their hosses, and sliced thru their cinches, and said, "Get outen the country. Next time it'll be a rifle bullet if we see you anywheres."

Now a man with a cut cinch on his hoss had best ride a mite careful to keep that saddle from floppin around under him. Never did see them after they took off. Dunno what happened to em. Cap came to me and said, "You done fine, boy." Then put his arm around me, me atremblin and still shakin. I never did point a gun at a white man before, good or bad. Heck, I mighta shot him, it's a wonder I didn't, me bein scairt on that bluff like I was.

~~~

Three mornins later we wuz ridin up to the ranch. We spotted two cowboys a mile or so off come ridin toward us, one of em had his right hand up, meanin they was friends, ranch hands from where we wuz goin. One of them knowed Cap, what with greetins and back-slappin, they sided us to the yard and we drove them hosses into the corral.

The owner, Ewing, came down to look em over. Every one of em clean limbed and quick and every one showin he'd been curried and fussed over. Said he never did see any finer mustangs anywhar.

We got ourselves cleaned up, then the eatin bell rang and we sashayed to the dinin room. Seemed funny us'n settin at a table, silverware and all. Cap and Chaco yarnin with the boss and the ranch hands. That Chinese cookie wuz spectin us and had apple pies awaitin for us. Sleepin in the bunk house sure felt different than on the ground without a fa'r or night guard to be frettin about.

Next mornin Mr.Ewing paid us our wages from the time we left the plains of New Mehico, plus a bonus cause them critters looked so good and we wuz welcome to stay as long as we wanted.

Two days of layin around and I knowed Cap was gettin itchy to ride out. Chaco done took off fer Idaho to see some cousins. Cap wuz headin for Robbers Roost, hideout of outlaws he knowed from years gone by.

Partin with Cap wuz short, he just looked at me, patted me on the back, and said, "Boy, you're fit. Muley is your'n to keep. He'll take care of ye, no matter whar you go." That mornin cap rode off, waved to me and Muley, who give him a so long bray and wuz gone. I never seen Cap after that, but I know that bowlegged ol coot made out fine, no matter what.

Now me, I had me a notion to head for Montana way. I been hearin tales from the boys that was a promisin land up thar, beautiful country, big rivers and lakes, a man could make sumpin of hisself up there.

The Sioux, Nez Pierce, Wallowas, tribes of Joseph, Gall, Sittin Bull, all big chiefs, had been tamed down some, most on reservations whar they could do no harm to settlers. The biggest part of em escaped to the Grandmother Country, up north - what they called Canada - to live out their years in peace.

I could hear Muley nickerin and saddled him up, got some vittles from the chinese cook, told the boys goodbye and headed north for Montana country. Even them mares we brung all the way out here lined up at the corral rail sayin so long companero knowin we'd never see each other no more.

Meanderin thru Wyomin headin north, scattered sites of old fort ruins, thru where the armies fought with the Sioux, Absarokee, Crows, under such chiefs as Crazy Horse, Red Blood, Dull Knife, American Horse, Blue Shield, many others I can't recall.

Many's the time, the army, not knowin the ways of Injun fighting, was wiped out to a man. Workin a few days here and thar, helpin out doin ranch work, I wuz fillin out, puttin on weight, muscles, gettin toughened up, feelin prime, not hurryin any.

~~~

One bright mornin Muley just loafin along on an ol deer trail on his own thru timber country, came to a clearin on the edge of a dream of a lake shaped like a crescent about three mile long and a half mile across. Right then I got me a hankerin for the taste of trout, which I could see a floppin once in a while.

Right off I spotted Muley's ears awigglin round and round, takin in the sounds and smells, when they stopped and pointed straight out. I had to find out what was buggin him. Gettin back in the brush, we eases along the edge of the lake. Sure enough, up ahead was a camp shack, with smoke from a small fa'r adriftin around. Up to it wuz a man asettin all hunched up smokin a pipe.

Dunno if he knowed I wuz there or not. I wanted to be sure he wuz alone, so I circled around to make sure, got closer and hollered the camp askin to come in. All I got wuz a grunt or sompin, so I slowly rode up the fa'r. Then he raised his head and said, "Coffee's on. Light and set."

Well, now, here wuz an old red man, wrinkled as all get out, a campin. Hell, he lived here, forty mile from anything, all by hisself. Gettin my cuppa coffee, I set by the fa'r tellin him who I wuz, how we brung hosses from down south to Mr.Ewing and now wuz just driftin around lookin for work. Them ol' sharp black eyes wuz readin me from my hat to my boots and said if it were no trouble to him, I'd like to fish a day or two somewhere on this beautiful lake. Him say, "I know Mr.Ewing. Him good man. My people say this be Medicine Lake. Don't fish on other side, bad spirit there."

I could see this ol timer didn't have any fresh meat hangin to dry out, just a few small pieces of dried fish, so I got my packs, pots and pans, cut up some deer meat, taters, made sour-dough bread and made us a grand meal.

That ol' man sure did eat, him not bein able to hunt too good, bout all he get was what fish he caught, which could get tiresome after a while.

The Injun's shack was in a small clearin in full sunshine, but too close to thick timber for my comfort. I cleaned up camp, and told the ol boy I'd find me a camp up the lake aways. He say, "You put mule in corral behind trees so he be all right, take canoe and fish whole lake." I done noticed Muley was restless for some reason where I had him tied, but I didn't pay him much mind till we rode up the corral fenced with aspen poles, bout fifty acres of tall grass, and what you know, at the gate wuz an ol' sway black lady mule. Fer the life of me, I never spected Muley had a girlfriend way out here. I hung his saddle on the fence and turned him loose. Just like a couple of kids, they nuzzled each other and trotted off happy as all get out.

That afternoon I took my gun a huntin some meat for that ol' boy. Waren't long I come to a big buck, downed him and had the meat hung up in the tree so's the ol' boy could get at it. I could see the light in them ol' eyes a thankin me. Then I loaded my gear in the canoe and pushed out into the lake.

That lake wuz full of fightin trout, no matter whar I throwed my line, it was took. Them trout was pilin up in the canoe, so I quit fishin and just drifted around that lake.

They wuz no wind on the surface, just a slight ripple, high spruce and hemlock to the very edges, sumac, maples, all gettin a drink of that still water.

Then I spotted a clearin across the lake, a perfect place for a camp. Kinda wondered how come the Injun didn't camp over yonder instead, and I remembered he said sumpin about spirits, to witch I payed no mind.

Twas here, around this lake year ago, the Injuns made medicine with their rituals and tribal ceremony of their times. But, shucks, that was a long time ago. I figgered I had enough fish for a good supper. We'd have and decided to paddle back to camp when I got a feelin, everything seemed to be still, somebody was watchin me. A pair of eyes wuz on me from somewhere around the lake or shadows.

I wuz not alone out here. There wuz no sound, no movement, nobody anywhere. Yet I knowed somebody wuz watchin me. I couldn't figger it nohow. Then, sudden like, the feelin was gone, but I wuz certain sumpin was out thar. I looked at that clearin across the lake and I knowed positive they wuz somebody there.

When I got to camp I said nothin to the Injun about what happened out there. I cooked a mighty good dinner for the two of us. We yarned a while. I took some goodies over to Muley and his lady friend. they wuz gettin along fine.

In camp the old boy had turned in, so I made my bed and put a good chunk a wood on the fa'r and got to sleepin in no time.

Next mornin the ol' boy had coffee ready. I made some belly pads with gravy, which hit the spot. I wuz of a mind to travel around the lake, mebbe be gone for three days or so. That wuz all right with him. He knowed I wuz goin across the lake, me not bein understandin kind.

I done loaded the canoe with what would last me for a few days and just paddled around, enjoyed the whole of this most wonderful place. Not till I got close the that clearin that I admired yesterday did I get that feelin again. Couldn't be that Injun, he wuz clean outta sight around the bend. It had to be in them thar willows just back of the edge of the lake.

Now I never taken to belive in h'ants or such, but if there wuz sumpin on that shore, I'm aimin to see who or what it is. So I aimed the canoe right for that clearin, pulled it up on shore, my gun in hand. I looked around. The ground was hard and dry with a small stream of water flowin out to the lake.

I circled around about a hundred feet. Nuthin, just rocks, bushes and such. To one side wuz some charred wood like somebody had him a fa'r sometime. The place was perfect for a camp. That odd feelin had left me so I unloaded my stuff, fished for a while and just layed around. Plenty of wood, clear water, stream, no fies. Back in the brush I found a pool, nice to take a bath in.

That evenin, after a good feed of trout, a settin by the fa'r, my back agin a small boulder, that feelin came on me. I could feel a shiver go down my spine. Lookin around in the dark, nothin. I got up and made a bigger fa'r so's I could see farther in the shadows. The feelin left me, then awhile later, there it wuz again, real strong this time.

I strained my eyes peerin thru the darkness, then I saw sumpin, like two small greenish circles that surely wuz a pair of eyes, not Injun eyes certain, or any human. It wa'r animal eyes that wuz lookin and starin at me. I didn't move much, nuff to lay my hand on my gun, them eyes done gone.

I got up to look where I seed them, nuthin. Kinda figgered some animal smelled my meat and wuz aimin to have him some. So I went back and set down again. Now I never heard a sound of anything movin around, no scrapin on the ground, or breakin of twigs, yet the owner of them eyes wuz back again. This time real close, bout a dozen feet away from whar I sat, straight in front of me.

Them eyes wuz sharp and penetratin right thru me. They wuz mean and menacin , sendin cold shivers down my back. I slowly reached over to the fa'r, picked up a burnin stick and throwed it at them eyes. That bit of pitch pine fell in a shower of sparks and lit up the dry grass, flared for a minute and died down.

In that bright flare of light I could see who my visitor was. A huge timber wolf sat on his hind quarters, starin steadily thru the fa'r lite. I could see its legs, and shoulder, his hair, the trees and brush behind him, all that in very clear detail.

That wolf got up and moved back a bit and set down, just starin, starin at me. I shoo'ed and boo'ed at it. He just sat there. Now, a wolf ain't much to be afraid of, they run for timber when they smell a man. I couldn't help but wonder how come he wuz hangin around me.

Anything to eat I throwed at him, he didn't eat. Never done nuthin but stare at me.

A timber wolf wuz a timber wolf, nothin more, I told myself, and yet? I talked to him, tried to coax him closer. Nuthin. So I curled up and said the heck with him, went to sleep. Took a while, that darn wolf, bugged me. He wuz different.

Sunshine and mornin, I forgot about that wolf. Nice breakfast, back to fishin, and that darned wolf was back again, right on edge of the water. Thar he lay, his head on his big paws, them paws, them eyes of his lookin right into mine. Why, it wuz like lookin at a human bein.

From that minute on seems like we wuz gettin on a social and personal basis. So I started to look him over more careful like. He wuz a huge beast, lean flanked, shaggy, wicked eyes, that seemed to try tellin me sumpin. I see his powerful jaws, its teeth, tongue hangin out, yet its fierceness didn't worry me. What he wanted I didn't know, but it had to be sumpin.

The day went by full of pleasure and enjoyment. That evenin was the same. The wolf and me, so I turned in and wuz asleep in no time. Somewhere in the middle of the night I waked up, looked at the fa'r and there, just a foot away, lay that wolf. One look into his eyes and I got a shock that shook me all up. He looked just like a dog in his eyes. I could sense a beseechin yearin expression of appeal. This big brute wuz layin beside me, appealin for help.

I looked into them pleadin eyes, and nodded my head, then slowly reached out by a hand and patted him on the head. Seemed as tho they wuz a flicker in them eyes as tho he understood. Mebbe a minute or so I wuz sleepin.

Come mornin I waked up, looked around, no wolf. Figgered I been dreamin. Got breakfast, cleaned up, and there wuz the wolf, comin to me. Looked at me, walked off a bit, stopped, turned his head and I asked him if he wanted me to go with him. Seemed he nodded his haid, so I figgered he wants to show me sumpin. What the heck, let's go, and I picked up my rifle, just in case.

We got into the brush, the trees wrapped around us, one mile, two mile, I didn't know for sure. We came to a clearin, with a big high bluff on the edge of the lake. The wolf stopped there, raised his head, and gave a howl, long drawn, more like the sad wail of an animal, like he wuz sendin a meassage to some kinda spirit.

I couldn't help wonder but what this place at the high bluff wuz where the Injuns had their ceremonials. Kinda gave me a creepy feelin, kinda though we wuz gettin close to sumpin. That ol' wolf walked off toward some bushes beyond a ways. He got into em, first lookin around to see if I wuz follerin him, then he wuz gone, and I waited, and he come, went back in, come out again, with that sad look in his eyes, which seemed to say, Come, Please.

I made up my mind real quick and went into them bushes after him. There wuz nuthin thar but a small cleared spot, a little hump covered with good sized rocks, and grass. But the change in that wolf is what surprised me. He wuz really excited, kept jumpin on and off that hump, skratchin on them rocks, tryin to move em, but they wuz too big. He frisked about me like he wuz real happy to have me there. The more excited he got, he got me more excited too. I knowed he wanted me to move and dig in them rocks.

I got them rocks cleared, then made me a digger with a point from a tree. That wolf's nose a pointin' to every spot for diggin, brushin up against me, even under me, scratchin here, dig here. I wuz bein told where to dig. Wasn't much of a hole I Had when I turned up a small whitish object. On examinin it, twas a finger bone of a man. Twaren't long afore I found more bones, till I had the whole skeleton of a tall man, cept the skull. But that wolf moved over a little, with his nose to the ground, said, here.

It was perfect, close to it lay a rusty ol' tomyhawk, and I knowed it was an Injun, not a white man. I gathered all them bones and tomyhawk and carried em over to a big spruce by the bluff where the wolf had stopped, and made his cry to the sky.

That wolf stopped with me, sat down on his haunches to see what I wuz gonna do. I didn't know what tribe this Injun belonged to. He peared to be as tall as the one in the camp across the lake. So I figgered him to be a Dakota Sioux, which could be close enough. I cut down four stout saplins, set em deep on four corners, built on a platform of bull pine sticks, laced em together good and close, laid out the bones in the way he would be layin, with the tomyhawk by his side. The cremation fire I laid in heavy stokin style so the flames would burn high and long, freein his spirit, cleaned by fa'r for his journey to Wanagi Yata, the Gatherin Place of the Shadows.

I looked at the wolf when I finished. He come to me and I put my hand on his head, looked in his eyes and said, "It is done, may your heart be with him, when the Gods call to you." A blink of his eyes, a lick of his tongue on my hand was his thank you, then he walked within five feet of the pyre, set down, lookin up at them bones. I stepped up, lit the fa'r wood, watched to see if it would burn, stepped back, alongside that wolf of mine.

I bent down, scooped up with my left hand some dirt, take a pinch with my fingers of my right hand, tossing the dirt in the four cardinal directions of Mother Maka, the Earth, raisin both arms to the sky. I said an Injun prayer: "Tunka, sila le iyahpe ya to; Father recieve this offering. Take this brave one who comes to you with pride and humbleness. Lead his pony where the grass is deep and the water clear and sift. Show him where the sun is shinin, keep him with you, close to your heart."

I looked at the big wolf at my side. He raised his head to the fa'r, gave a long mournful cry, and leaped way up into that funeral pyre. All I could see wuz a great big cloud of dark smoke, coverin everything around me. Then I could see a shape formin inside that smoke. Twas a tall lookin Injun dressed in beaded clothes. Musta been a big chief in his time. He raised his left hand to his forehead, and waved it to me - an Injun sign of respect for what I done. I dropped my tired arms and set down watchin the fa'r burn itself out, went back to the canoe, loaded it up, paddled across the lake to that ol' Injun's camp.

He wuz asettin by his fa'r. Didn't say nuthin till I had coffee, then asked You see wolf? I said yes. I see spirit of wolf in the sky. He is gone? And I said he is gone. He will not come back. "Good, I go now," wuz his only answer. I paid him no mind, just a settin there with his blanket around his shoulders, keepin the chill of the evenin offen him. I got up, gettin ready to fixin some grub, twas gettin that time. I noticed he wuzn't movin much. Sho nuff he done took that shadowy trail to the happy huntin land in the sky, and I wuz alone again.

Reckon him and that wolf had sumpin in common together, just awaitin there by that lake till some stranger passed by and freed thar spirits from some wrong they done, no tellin how many years ago.

I buried that ol' man right thar at the edge of the lake, puttin all the little things he treasured that I found in his shack, sayin the proper words. Somehow it seemed the stars shone brighter that night, the moon castin his light in soft glowin out on the lake when I turned in.

Next mornin, after breakfast, I cleaned up camp and the shack, got spick and span, went out to see Muley, wonderin how he was makin out. That mornin had a sorta chill to it and my hunch was a tellin me that Wasiya, the winter king, was mixin his white brew, and one of these days wuz gonna dump his batch and cover this country all white.

When I got to the corral, and called Muley, here they come akickin up their heels, and brayin their gladness to see me, me standin there, scratchin their ears and pettin em. I got to thinkin, what's that Injuns mule gonna do now, alone? I knowed right there what I had to do. With an arm around each neck, I told em to take care of each other and stay happy together. This wuz good-bye. I opened the corral gate and they run out.

Muley looked back once from a hill top, give me a so long bray and then they wuz both gone. I took a last look at my saddle on the corral fence, turned and got to camp, gathered up what needins I wanted and headed out afoot.

They wuz gonna be other days, mebbe some yarnin and tellin tales, dreamin of days to come to an end, mebbe to lonely days and nites, dreams of a girl someday, sharin our happiness. Who knows of these things?

 

~~~Epilogue

Months later, down in a cow camp in Colorado I listened to an ol' timer tellin tales. He mentioned that Medicine Lake up Montana way. He hunted for that lake but never did find it. So I spoke up, tole em I wuz there and what happened. So he told me the story that the Injuns had been told many long years ago.

They wuz a tribe of Dakota Sioux who had their lodges and homes at that lake. They thought and believed in the timber wolf as their protector and bringer of good crops, rain, plentiful hunting. That bluff wuz where they held their dances and ceremonial thanks when the moon was full and high.

One day, one of their best warrior and hunter wuz out huntin. Oddly enough, his name wuz Runnin Wolf. He spotted a great big buck deer, drew his bow and just as he wuz about to shoot, a wolf leaped out at the deer and run him off. This angered the brave, so he let the arrow fly, hit the wolf and watched him die.

Later, the tribes council found out about what he done. They was wailin and prayin to their gods. They stripped him of everything he had, cept his tomyhawk, and banished him from the tribe. He didn't go far. They found him the next day, just piled rocks on him. Their high murkey muck medicine man chanted and danced on them rocks, cussed his spirit, turned it into a wolf, to forever roam the forests, never enter the promised land of the shadows until a white stranger Warrior liberated his spirit from the spell.

Time to time I wonder if my saddle is still asettin on that corral fence. I never did go back that way. Is Muley still thar with his lady friend?

Quien Sabe?

**Author's Note:**

> If you got this far I should be thanking you- so thank you. 
> 
> Comment your thoughts if you feel like it


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